Shattered Glass and Broken Hearts
by charredsunshine
Summary: The Wizarding World has finally performed their last betrayal. Labelled a traitor, the-boy-who-lived is thrown into Azkaban without a trial. Can the dark lord fix what's lost, or will his efforts be entirely too late?
1. Chapter 1 Tears, Pain, and Silver

**Title:** Shattered Glass and Broken Hearts

**Author:** charredsunshine

**Warning**: M/M, angst, hurt/comfort

**Summary:** The Wizarding World has finally performed their last betrayal. Labelled a traitor, the-boy-who-lived is thrown into Azkaban without a trial. Can the dark lord fix what's lost, or will his efforts be entirely too late?

**Chapter 1:** Tears, Pain, and Silver Linings

Harry stared helplessly at the prison that stood before him large and looming. His eyes roved up the blackened walls and pointed towers. His mind tried to close off the sound of every wave that lapped innocently against the shores. His body tried to stand tall when all he wanted was to cower. Where was the saviour of the wizarding world now? What use was being the-boy-who-lived?

None. It was his fame that brought him such misfortune. Here he stands, hell and mistakes merged into one symbol: Azkaban.

Harry doesn't delude himself for one second that he can escape this. No trial...No jury...Just Dumbledore and the fucking Minister of Magic doing what the bloody hell they wish.

What use is love?

What use is trust?

After all, didn't he trust Dumbledore not to betray him? Didn't he trust Ron and Hermione to keep their promises as friends? Didn't he trust the wizarding world to provide companionship and family? The irony is that they screamed at him as he walked down the streets. They called him all manner of things, but mostly, they labelled him a traitor. He was a traitor for having undesireable thoughts he never acted upon. He was a traitor for misleading them to consider him what he never wanted to be. No, he's not a traitor. He's a ifool/i for placing trust where it doesn't belong.

Harry's eyes once again stared hopelessly at the black stone fortress.

A wizard once wrote that pain is the fortress that shelters blindness, and desperation is what feeds it.

Fix what's broken

for shards lay shattered on the floor at my feet

Fix what's broken

for eyes shed water and salty rivers run deep

Fix what's broken

For in my heart jagged lines create two halves:

Love and trust are broken by hate

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The boy-who-lived sat motionless in a corner and stared at the wall. His bare feet were cold, his bladder was full, and his rear end had gone numb centuries ago, but he resolutely stared at the wall. He admired the cobwebs and the spiders that created them. When he was asleep, on the cold stone floor, they would sometimes come to keep him company, crawl over his body and stare him in the face while sitting on the tip of his nose. Of course, he screamed the first time. Spiders are meant to be frightening things, so of course he screamed. But it's a wonder what a month can do to a relationship. He wasn't going anywhere, and the spiders weren't going anywhere, so Harry soon grew to appreciate their companionship.

People say that after three months in Azkaban, prisoners start to lose their mind. Well, Harry's not sure if this is another boy-who-lived thing, but he started losing his mind a while ago. He doesn't know how long ago, since something so trivial as time becomes inconsequential in the scheme of things at Azkaban, but he's started hearing voices in his head. They too, like the spiders, frightened him at first. He thought it was Voldemort, but it couldn't be. The voice was deep, but feminine; commanding, yet soft. She whispered words of comfort in his ears when he awoke, and sung him lullabies when he slept. It wasn't particularly a nuisance. It just liked to make all these crazy promises.

It told him that it liked him, and it would free him as soon as she gathered enough strength. It would always whisper that word in his ear. "Soon" was its mantra.

Harry never believed the voice, but it was nice to imagine that there truly was someone out there ready to bust him out of jail. Sometimes when he's laying on the floor, waiting for sleep to claim his starving body, Harry likes to imagine that there honestly is someone out there willing to save him. The person is always tall, a person of power and darkness. The person is also always a man. He doesn't know why he can't imagine it being a girl, but it's a man nonetheless. He comes in with an aire of confidence, blasts open his cell door, and grabs his arms. He is lifted up into the arms of this stranger, and carried away into the future. Sappy, cliche phrases like "they live happily ever after" flash into his mind, and that's when he squashes the idea. He can never "live happily ever after." Not when he's been so betrayed. How can he even dare to hope for something so ludicrous. Who does he think he is, Cinderella? Does he expect himself to be saved by Prince Charming any time soon? Why must he constantly venture to hurt himself? When will he ever learn?

Harry's eyes narrow at the wall, and he hugs his knees tighter to his chest. Yes, he must quickly learn that there is no happiness in the world. The sooner he learns that, the better it will be for him. It's harder to be hurt when you know the truth of your fate. After all, destiny's been ruling his life for so long. The Dursleys, the stupid prophecy, Sirius's death, his parent's death, THIS...It's just one long stream of bad luck, and there's no hope for him to escape it. His mind often circles around thoughts of suicide, but he's never really considered it an option. Something would probably come out and ruin that too.

His sharp ears combined with the eerie silence allow him to hear the sound of footsteps. Like a song, the steps come to him in a soft crescendo, and leave to haunt another prisoner in very much the same way. The guards are obviously on patrol today, but feel uninterested in playing with him. They grew bored when he stopped responding with tears and screams to their taunts. Why shouldn't they? After all, they came for a show, but they couldn't get their money back, so they simply stopped darkening his jail step.

He likes to think that as the days go by, it becomes harder and harder to live like this, but it's far from true. In fact, it becomes easier and easier. Hopelessness becomes easier to bear. Fear becomes easier to ignore. Memories become easier to suppress. Life becomes easier to give up on. For once, Harry can comfortably say that he's actually adjusted to his surroundings. Maybe he'll die here and move on to somewhere better. Maybe there is an afterlife. Or maybe there isn't an afterlife and his soul will be trapped here for always and eternity.

Either way, he doesn't care. He's never getting out of here, so what's the point. As depressing as it is, this is his new home. Harry shifts out of the corner and stretches his legs. He faces the door of his own personal hell with a quiet resoluteness.

He will not cry.

He will not suffer.

He will not hope.

-  
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Tom Riddle drummed his fingers against the armrest of his throne as he was presented with negative results. For the past 2 weeks, all his death eaters have been able to present him is bad news. They haven't been able to do this. They can't manage to intercept that. They haven't received anything new on the topic of...blah blah blah. It's all so repetitive, and Lord Voldemort, the darkest lord in history, is unwilling to take anymore of it.

He stood up on his feet, pulled out his wand, and started throwing hexes left and right. He didn't really focus on where he was aiming. His shorts were random and indiscriminate. He shot for the sake of proving a lesson. He is the dark lord, not their parents. He won't be continuously disappointed like this. A few people were shot down by a cruciatus, but most were hit by sectumsempra. One unfortunate person pleaded for his life, and was given special attention.

Lord Voldemort gazed at his death eater coldly as he levitated the man into the air. The meeting room was rather tall, and so when Lord Voldemort cut off the wingardium leviosa, the death eater fell with a sickening crunch. Everyone was fairly sure he died in that fall.

"Take him as an example. I shall tolerate incompetence from absolutely ino one/i. This man begged for his life after disappointing me time and time again. Think of this the next time you decide to report to me with bad news: the next person will get a ticket to the torture chambers. In case none of you are aware, it's a one way ticket."

The death eaters suitably shivered before the chilling gaze, and picked themselves up to bow at his feet in apology.

"Now, Lucius. I sincerely hope you have something pleasing to inform me. This is one of my most important missions."

"Yes, my lord. Unlike the others, Severus and I come bearing good news."

"Yes, our lord. We have been able to discover a flaw within the Azkaban wards. There is a rather obvious hole on the left side of the fortress, and through it we can easily enter the basement where we are sure Potter is being held. The problem is that lighting in the basement is nonexistent, and we will be entering blind. Our timing and alertness will have to be impeccable."

"As for Potter? Have you heard any news from him? Most likely not. How long do you need to prepare?"

"You are correct, my lord. I have heard nothing about him from Dumbledore. We will need A mere week, my lord. I am working on a potion that will allow night-vision. The potion is currently in progress."

"And you didn't care to ask me before you began this potion?"

"I did not wish to waste time, my lord. It is of the essence. My apologies if I have offended you."

Lucius and Severus both bowed low before their lord and hoped they hadn't made a mistake.

"Rise. You have no need to bow. I am very pleased with the both of you. Severus, I want you to focus solely on that potion for the rest of this week. If it is successful, I will reward you handsomely for making this mission much easier. Lucius, I want you to choose two others to join you on this mission and serve as back-up. Alongside of this, I want you to obtain a report from your son on the situation at Hogwarts. I don't want to be forced to lie to Potter when he arrives. I want him to join us on his own terms."

"Immediately, my lord."

"Good. This meeting is dismissed."

Tom rose on his feet, feeling significantly happier now than when the meeting started. At least he has two competent death eaters. Now, he only has to work on his 80 others. Only when he'd exited the room, did the death eaters begin to disappear. Some of them glared with jealousy at Lucius and Severus, but the two ignored the envious few. The incompetence of others is far from their business.

The Dark Lord sat comfortably in his office, and contemplated the benefits of an alliance with the imprisoned teenager. He's waited and waited for years, and this is finally his chance. Now that the wizarding world has made the mistake of forsaking their weapon, he can swoop in and pick up the pieces. He's been waiting too long.

It's time for his little snake to come home.

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Fix what's broken

for shards lay shattered on the floor at my feet

waiting to be melded back together

A/N:

That's definitely the end of this chapter. I hope everyone who read it liked it. I'd definitely feel disappointed if at least SOMEONE didn't like it. Please tell me what you think in reviews.


	2. Chapter 2 The Faith to Listen

**Title:** Shattered Glass and Broken Hearts

**Author:** charredsunshine

**Warning:** M/M, angst, hurt/comfort

**Summary:** The Wizarding World has finally performed their last betrayal. Labelled a traitor, the-boy-who-lived is thrown into Azkaban without a trial. Can the dark lord fix what's lost, or will his efforts be entirely too late?

**Chapter 2:** The Faith to Listen/center

"What the future holds is dependent on the past, so make the best of your present."

A week seemed to pass by slowly. Severus worked day and night on the night-vision potion, barely showing up for breakfast. Lucius was busy setting up a game plan for what they would do come mission day. Tom...Well, Tom was busy maintaining his newly regained sanity. Death eaters watched in jealousy as Severus and Lucius seemed to all the world, knee-deep in work. In order to perfect his plans, Lucius worked for permission to enter the basement level of Azkaban. Finding that Harry's door was a mere five prison-cells from their intended entrance, he was able to effectively plan out how they would reach it. They would have time to escape if someone came from the inside entrance. If someone shocked them from the outside entrance, however, they would be in a tight corner.

Severus found a million ways to create the potion, but none of them were stable. They either blew up in his face ten minutes later, turned his skin green, or resulted in temporary blindness after a mere 3 minutes of use. Frustration ate at him from the inside out as mission day came closer and closer. People consequently, gave him a wide berth.

Sunday afternoon saw the result of the anxiety that had been building for over six days. Lucius and Severus could not talk for fear of jinxing the day. Tom was so anxious he kept forgetting the plan, and therefore repeatedly asked Lucius to remind him, an action that very rapidly grew to irritate the nervous death eater.

"Lucius, you should calm down."

The sound of Rudolphus's platitudes did little to calm the irritated man. This was his plan. Sure it's the dark lord's mission, but it's his plan moving them. It's like playing chess. One wrong move, and you lose. If Lucius' plan fails, the dark-side is doomed. They'll be sitting ducks. They might as well have turned themselves in!

"My apologies Rudolphus, but that tongue you're using to mouth useless words is about to come off in under a minute. Leave me in peace."

The man sniffed at the scorn, turned up his nose and quietly walked away. He knows when his services aren't yet needed.

When evening dawned, and everyone's nerves were suitably frayed, they set off and apparated to the mainland. From there, they climbed into the boat they magically fashioned from a tree, and rowed their way to the left side of the little island. From there on, they entered the break in the wards and entered the break in the fortress. Tom, Lucius, Severus, Rudolphus, and Bellatrix all acknowledged the accuracy with which Lucius reported the darkness of the basement. There was no light. The only light in the room was whatever managed to stream through the porthole.

"We should've taken the potion outside."

Their fumbled into their pockets, and quickly found their own faces -- drinking the potion.

Meanwhile, Harry sat in his little prison cell feeling oddly delirious. The voices, since this morning, had been on overdrive. "Soon" was whispered perhaps a million times in his ears.

_"Soon our precious. Soon you shall be free!"_

Harry still didn't feel he could believe them. After all, he's in Azkaban. Who would free him in this impenetrable fortress? Who would free him in this darkness?

_"Have faith, love. Soon!"_

He lost faith when his friends picked up their wands and pointed them in his direction. As he grows weaker, he can clearly remember the shock that gripped his heart as spells were shot in his direction. Pure instinct was what kept him alive for so long. It was a full half hour later that they caught him. He didn't go down easy, but when Shacklebott joined the fray, there was nothing more Harry could do to free himself. He'd already used up his wild magic blasting Dumbledore off of him.

_"Have faith!"_

Harry oddly considered in that moment that he was starving. Not just any starving. He was truly, truly starving. He hasn't eaten for the past four weeks, possibly five. He isn't really sure anymore. It's been so long, the faces of the house elves are lost in a void of haziness and disuse. Maybe it's the hunger making him so weak. How uncharacteristic for him to become so weak over something that's been happening to him since the tender age of four. But then again, the Dursleys never forced him to go without food for more than 3 weeks. The challenge is getting to be a bit much.

As Harry grew weaker and weaker, he failed to hear the sound of the door open. He failed to hear the sound of spoken curses. All he acknowledged was the feel of warm hands lifting him up, and a sturdy chest pressed to his face. After that, all was darkness.

Tom handed Harry off to Lucius, and took his place in the fray. They were surprised from the outside by three prison guards who had finally acknowledged the break in the wards. Misfortune seemed to be upon them. Tom had managed to kill one of them when something amazing happened. Trees, dead trees, approached the prison guards from behind. Their branches waved and swayed in what could have been the wind, except there was no wind in the still, moonless night. Not even the stars had dared to blemish. The branches grew longer, and like arms reached out to grab the men in their wooden grasps. The death eaters stood there in abject shock as the life was squeezed right out of the remaining two death eaters.

Voldemort grew wary of the trees that had saved them. They have saved them, but that does not mean that the wooden creatures would not turn on them within a second. It was then that he heard the voices and saw the trees turn and disappear.

_"Take well care of our child, dark one. Betray him not, for his only hope is you."_

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Later that evening, while Harry was being nursed by Severus, Tom thought carefully on the mysterious voice's words. After the sentient oaks had walked away to stand in unsuspicious silence, they never returned. Tom and his death eaters were able to row to the mainland without another distraction.

_"Betray him not, for his only hope is you."_

"My lord, I'm sorry to disturb you, but Harry has finally woken. He's quite confused. I explained the situation, and now he's asking for you."

The dark lord rose immediately to his feet at the words "Harry" and "woken" in the same sentence. Now, he would finally get the chance to make things right. Perhaps this is what the maiden voices meant. Perhaps this is his only chance, and he should work not to waste it.

He walked quickly down the corridors.

"How is he, Severus?"

"Considering the fuss he made, I take it he's well. His nutrition levels are dangerously low, but I doubt he's been eating properly while in Azkaban. I'll be making nutrition potions for him to take three times a day. It'll be a while before he can eat anything more than soup."

"I see..."

"Otherwise, nothing has changed. He has a headache, but that should disappear with the pain potion that I gave him. It's actually quite fortunate they put him in solitary confinement. He might be a lot worse otherwise."

Tom walked quickly into the guest room next to his personal chambers. There, on the bed, sat the boy staring around himself in confusion and wonder.

"Potter?"

"_Voldemort?"_

Harry stared at him in obvious surprise and at the same time, there was a hint of appreciation there. It was quite the odd mixture of a reaction in Tom's opinion.

"_You're_ the one who rescued me?"

"If my memories have not been tampered with, yes, I do believe it was I who carried you out of Azkaban. Is that a problem?"

Tom tried to size up the boy's reaction to see how much work he would have to do. Is he completely adverse to the idea that the dark lord busted him out of jail, or is he grateful and receptive to news.

"No, no. It's just...I'm so...surprised..."

Harry turned to stare at the crimson wall before him and seemed to give a brief smile. The voices had been practically screaming at him to "have faith," but he'd never believed them. Could they have known that the dark lord would come to rescue him? Or is it a mere coincidence, and he's reading too much into it. The thought of Azkaban as a sentient being was an abstract one. Sure he knew Hogwarts was a sentient being, but Hogwarts is special. Hogwarts is...well...Hogwarts. There's no other way to describe. It's just to strange not to be something even stranger. Human attributes seem to suit it.

But what human attributes does the wizarding world's most abominable prison have. It certainly seemed pretty nice to Harry.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you save me? What purpose do you have for rescuing me? Did you rescue me because you want something from me? Did you rescue me just so you can kill me?"

Harry shifted over as the dark lord approached. He didn't seem to have a wand in his hand, so Harry was only too willing to listen. The situation was so curious. Here he is, sitting with the dark lord, about to have a normal conversation that doesn't involve yelling or flying streams of light.

"Well...Those are heavy questions. I intended on answering them, but they'll take a while to answer. You have to promise me you'll be patient."

"Okay."

"Well, it started a long time ago when I was starting out my regime. In the beginning, I was not what you are familiar with. In fact, the person you see right now is the true version of myself."

"True version?"

"Yes. I believe that on the immediate halloween after your first birthday, I supposedly walked in and killed your parents. The problem is, that that wasn't me that walked into your room that night."

Tom watched with dismay the skeptical look on Harry's face. What should he have expected? After all, it's not like Dumbledore hasn't been brainwashing him for the past six years. He's bound to have doubts.

"Before that night, Dumbledore and I had been bitter enemies. Your parents were only one of our arguments, but they were a major defeat between us. Your parents, Harry, were large political contenders. After their marriage they had both made the conscious decision that they disliked Dumbledore, and would rather join me. Dumbledore was, of course, furious. They held within their grasp so many political connections. Dumbledore wanted to use those connections to his advantage, and your parents were aware of that."

"So you're trying to tell me that my parents were...that my parents were..."

"Death eaters? No. They, unfortunately, did not get that far. The week before they were supposed to get their mark, I sent them into hiding. Dumbledore had decided that he was going to steal from them their first born child. That was you. You were supposed to be a ransom. They either join the side of the light, or lose their child. When they went missing, he scoured for them everywhere. The one who betrayed their location to Dumbledore, was Remus Lupin. He'd long been promised protection from Dumbledore, and scientific research on a cure for his lycanthropy. Dumbledore was lying, of course, but Lupin failed to see that. Dumbledore burst into the safe haven I created for your parents, and attacked. When the alarms sounded, I arrived to see both your parents dead, and you in "my" arms. I didn't know what to make of the situation. I just started to curse Dumbledore."

"So then...How did you die?"

"Interestingly, I tripped over one of your baby toys. I went down, and Dumbledore threw the killing curse at my back. That scar, isn't from me, Harry. That scar is from Dumbledore. Due to my horcruxes, the killing curse had an adverse effect when I came back to life. I grew insane for a certain amount of time. Four months ago, the effects wore off, and...well...here I am."

"Wow...um...well..."

Harry knew it must've been strange that he was taking this too easy. To be honest, he'd been having dreams of similar situations for the past four months also. Every time, there would be two voldemorts in his room, and his parents would've been already dead.

"I think...I think I remember that happening."

"What?"

"Well four months ago, I started having dreams of two Voldemorts in my room, and my parents already dead. I dreamed that one of them morphed into Dumbledore. It was actually these dreams that sent me to Azkaban. I thought the dreams were a manifestation of my distrust for Dumbledore. I unfortunately explained my approval of certain parts of your regime to my friends, and...well...they handed the letter over to Dumbledore. When I went to the Weasleys, they captured me, and threw me in Azkaban for something I never did. They claimed I was a death eater, and that they had no choice but to throw me in jail. They used the letter as major evidence, and I went without a trial."

"I'm sorry about what you went through."

"Well, it's alright, I guess. I guess I'm not really surprised, because I've had four months to think about it. I'm sure you were expecting me to rant and rave about how you're a bloody liar."

"That's true. To be honest, I'm a little disappointed. Happy, but a little disappointed."

Harry's lips quirked up into a smile at the thought of the dark lord being happy at his approval. What would he have done if Harry threw a fit?

"I'm still kind of tired, though. Just sitting here's taking a lot of my energy."

The dark lord's eyes widened, before he quickly apologized. Tom and Severus both quickly departed, and shut the door. The last thing Harry heard before he fell asleep, was the sound of Tom's voice calling out that he need only walk through the connecting door if he needed anything. All else, was nothing.

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A/N:

I want to thank everyone who reviewed my first chapter. Your reviews definitely warmed my heart and made me smile! ^_^ See? The following review responses will be for those who had questions.

**Wolfwhispers,**

I'm familiar with the cliche you're talking about. Unless I have some kind of major inspiration for an uberpowerful Harry, and it's majorly important to the plot, I won't really fall into it. It's really kind of overdone. I'd have to have something spine-tinglingly innovative to balance it off.

As for the grammatical errors, I'll try and fix them in future chapters. I try really hard not to make spelling errors. I'm a bit of a grammar nerd myself, but tenses are the one problem I can admit to. I think I'll just end up hiring a beta. It's my logic that's warped. I think that a tense should be one way while grammatically, it should be another.

Thanks once again for the review!

**Lady X,**

The writing at the beginning and end of the first chapter is an original poem. It was kind of what inspired me to write this story. I was thinking of what to write for an assignment, and that's what popped out. The next thing I knew, a rather insistent plot bunny was poking at my brain. It was rather annoying, actually. Thanks so much for the review!

Until Next Time!


	3. Chapter 3 Honesty for Rejection

**Title:** Shattered Glass and Broken Hearts

**Author:** charredsunshine

**Warning:** M/M, angst, hurt/comfort

**Summary:** The Wizarding World has finally performed their last betrayal. Labelled a traitor, the-boy-who-lived is thrown into Azkaban without a trial. Can the dark lord fix what's lost, or will his efforts be entirely too late?

**Chapter 3:** Honesty for Rejection

Harry's eyes flittered open slowly, like the emerald ring revealed inside a black, velvet case. The headache from yesterday still lingered, but the mild pain potion made it considerably more bearable. What happened yesterday? Harry thought of what he'd been able to grasp of the situation, of Tom's words. He wasn't surprised. It was merely a formal explanation of what had already been revealed to him. It's kind of nice, though. It's kind of nice to know that there's someone who isn't willing to lie to him.

"Alright. Now that I'm up, what am I supposed to do?"

Harry slid himself out of the bed and decided to start by taking a shower. Maybe then, he could find some clothes that might possibly fit him. The concept is heavenly, like a mere fantasy. Clothes that fit him? Do such things exist? The green-eyed gryffindor snorted at the sarcasm his own mind managed to produce. He must be feeling more himself if he can spout self-deprecating witticisms this early in the morning. Speaking of morning...

"What time is it?"

It's moments like this he misses his wand. It's also moments like this he wishes he'd taken wandless magic more seriously. He'd been reading about it over the summer, but the texts considered it impossible for anything of significance. Harry stopped bothering with the theory after that.

"Potter?"

In the middle of his shower, a familiarly masculine voice called out to him.

"Yeah? Give me a couple minutes."

By the time the gryffindor left the bathroom, ten minutes had passed, and Professor Snape was on page six of a book on the dark arts he'd found on the smallest wall shelf.

"You take a rather long time showering?"

"Yes, well...I've learned to appreciate the smaller things in life. Azkaban's offered me a whole new perspective on the value of a soft-bed, hot water, and privacy."

"Naturally. Did the dark lord tell you everything?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly that, Potter. Did he tell you everything that needs to be told."

Here, Harry became suspicious. Why would one of Tom's subjects ask if he's up to date. Aren't they supposed to simply do as their told? But then again, Professor Snape isn't a mere foot-soldier. It still doesn't explain why he's checking up on Tom.

"I don't know. Why don't you tell me what he was supposed to mention."

"It's simply that you seem to be very accepting. I'm worried he left out one tiny little detail."

"Detail."

"Yes, detail. If you would kindly stop parroting my words, I would greatly appreciate it. I can't tell you what detail it was, for he'd surely kill me. However, I suggest you pressure him into giving you every single detail. Things will not go well if you don't."

"I assume he doesn't know you're here."

"Well, he told me to come up here and announce breakfast. I simply decided to announce more. Wouldn't want to keep him waiting any longer than usual."

Professor Snape turned around to leave, but Harry grabbed his wrist.

"Professor, wait! Just one little question. How little is this detai?"

"Considering it's about your future, and that it'll require numerous awkward conversations, I would have to say that it's really not that small. Now hurry up, Potter. I can't let you get lost in the manor. It's very large."

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Breakfast was, to say the least, awkward. Harry tried hard to keep himself from glaring obviously at Tom in front of Tom's subordinates, but the coldness Harry gave off made everyone aware that something is most certainly wrong. Conversation was stilted, and as Lucius whispered to the dark lord, both of them kept looking out the sides of their eyes at Harry.

"What did you say to him?"

"What did I say to him? The first sight I've had of the boy was when he entered the breakfast hall. I can't say I've done anything to upset him."

Despite their attempts at a clandestine conversation, Harry heard every single word of it, and it only made him angrier. If Tom doesn't even know why Harry's angry, does it mean that he doesn't consider it wrong to lie about something so important? Does it mean that he doesn't know that Professor Snape is willing to spill the secret? Why is it that Professor Snape even spilled the secret in the first place? For years, their mutual hatred has been notorious. For it to suddenly change would be just...awkward.

Speaking of awkward...

"Alright. I can't do this. Tom, can I talk to you privately?"

The quiet whisper was heard by the man next to him, and quickly they both excused themselves. Lucius stared openly in curiousity. Severus just tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. Harry led Tom up the stairs and into his room where he locked the door for some privacy.

"Is something..."

"What have you been hiding from me?"

The question came out of Harry's mouth, like verbal splurge, it interrupted the Dark Lord and held no warning in its content.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I know, Tom. I know you're hiding something from me, and I don't like it."

"Um...I..."

"Tom. You sprung me out of Azkaban. My cell was my own personal hell hole. I can't possibly thank you enough. From what I've been dreaming, and from what you told me, I think that there's the possibility that our relationship can change. Before that can happen, though, we have to trust eachother, and I can't trust you if you start hiding secrets. I'm not asking you tell me everything about you. I am, however, asking that you tell me everything that involves ime/i."

"How do you know?"

"That's not important. All that matters is that I do know, and that I swear to you that if you don't tell me the truth in the next fifteen minutes, I'm out of here. I hate nothing more than liars."

An almost murderous expression came over Tom's face right then, and Harry's glare grew sharper. He's probably wondering who told Harry, but Harry's not going to tell. If Professor Snape was kind enough to tell him he's being lied to, Harry can be kind enough to keep his kindness a secret. Tom seemed to spend five minutes thinking about the question while Harry spent five minutes hating Tom for every minute he spent thinking. What is he thinking for? Why can't he just tell Harry the truth? Is it truly so hard?

"Fine. I didn't intend to lie to you. I just wanted to wait before telling you. I wanted to wait until we'd built a stronger foundation of trust, and you were used to me."

"Yes, well, sorry to ruin your plans, but I want to know now."

"The prophecy, as you've probably figured out, is false. Instead, there's a true prophecy, one that prophecizes a different relationship between the two of us."

"What does it say?"

"It stated that our union is the beginning of the end. The end of chaos and the start of order."

"And you couldn't tell me this now, why?"

"Well...Because...The union isn't that of friends or casual partners. The union is...that...of...mates."

"Mates? What do you mean mates? Like...Like creature mates!?"

"Well no. It's stronger than creature mating. Not to mention, we, neither of us, are creatures. Oh, now, you don't need to look so horrified! This is precisely why I didn't tell you. I've known since you were born. I've known since before you were born, so the concept of us being together isn't so strange to me, but..."

"Not so strange!? What do you mean not so strange!? This is downright wierd! I can't marry you!"

"Harry, it's..."

"No! I'm sorry, but I don't think I can ever like you that way."

--------------0000000000---------------

A/N:

Ouch! That must've burned. How is Tom going to react to such a blatant disregard for his feelings?

WELL! I'll leave that for next chapter.


	4. Chapter 4 Look to the Ancients

Title: Shattered Glass and Broken Hearts

Author: charredsunshine

Warning: M/M, angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: The Wizarding World has finally performed their last betrayal. Labelled a traitor, the-boy-who-lived is thrown into Azkaban without a trial. Can the dark lord fix what's lost, or will his efforts be entirely too late?

**Chapter 4:** Look to the Ancients

"Come now, my lord. You could not have expected him to be fond of the idea."

"No, Lucius. I didn't expect him to be fond of the idea. I just didn't expect him to be so disgusted by it."

Tom slouched in his seat, nursing a small glass of wine. He doesn't drink often, but today seems to call for the occassion. He doesn't want to feel upset. Not at all. He wants to be hopeful and joyous, but how can one be joyous when their mate tells them in no uncertain terms that there is absolutely no way whatsoever they will get together. Tom still remembers the words. His voice was so loud and firm, so resolute.

_"I don't think I can ever like you that way, Tom. I've hated you for years. You can't expect me to want to be your mate. I can't be your mate. Just like the other prophecy, this one is wrong. I don't find you appealing, I don't know you that well, and you're way too old for me. I'm sorry."_

_Tom felt as if Harry had reached his very hand into Tom's chest, and crushed his heart. He felt as if his lungs were being squeezed and his airsupply was being cut off. Rejection. Complete and utter rejection. There was no hope. Not appealing...old. Where is there room for change in these two features. The Dark Lord knows that he isn't the most attractive of people since his revival, but...but...He had hoped that...Maybe..._

"I am a fool. To have expected love. I am impossible to fall for. I have an intolerable personality. The boy is saving himself the trouble of a headache. Besides, how can I expect someone so young to tie himself to..."

"My Lord, you must stop such nonsense immediately! You are well aware that it's the dark magic that makes you look so, and you are also well aware that Severus and I are looking for the reversal. In no time, you will appear how you are meant to appear. Until Severus and I say there is no hope, please do not sound so disparaging. There is a potion or a spell somewhere that can help you. If not, then we will create one ourselves. There is no one in this life better for Potter than you. He is a fool to reject you so coldly! In no time, you will be the most charming, dashing dark lord in history. I for one shall not rest until Potter realizes what a fool he is and regrets his decision most bitterly."

Tom simply gave the smallest of smiles and asked how long he had to collect himself. Even if he doesn't believe Lucius's words, it's nice to hear them. They threaten to fill him with a hope he just doesn't seem to have right now. To think that he has stooped so low as to allow a teenager to threaten his happiness. Some dark lord he is. Hmph.

"I believe dinner is in half an hour."

"Half an hour!? But that..."

"Yes, my lord. We have been talking for nearly two hours. You will be facing him sooner than you thought."

Tom had hoped he would have at least an hour to collect himself before meeting the boy-who-rejected-Voldemort, but to think that he only has half an hour...

"I will have Severus and I sit between you and the boy. Therefore, any conversation will be kept to a minimum, and any awkwardness will be kept isolated. Would it help to put the both of you on complete opposite ends of the table?"

"No, Lucius. You know it goes by rank. If he sits too far from me, things will be entirely too obvious. Putting the two of you between us is strange as it is. Thank you for the consideration, however. I believe I can survive with the three seat separation."

"Yes, my lord. You're welcome, my lord."

"Go and meet Severus. When you find him, I want the both of you to take your seats at the table, so that there is an easy excuse."

-

Lucius found Severus and they both ventured downstairs, however there was a slight little hitch in the plans. They reached the dinner hall, but Harry was already sitting where Lucius had planned to seat himself.

"Mr. Potter!"

"Yes?"

"What are you doing here so early?"

"I just thought I'd talk to the dark lord about something during dinner."

Lucius narrowed his eyes at the boy and seemed to stick his elegant, aristocratic nose and stared at the boy with a certain level of arrogance. How dare the child come in and presume he can just pick up where he left off. Does he think so highly of himself? Does he consider himself so special he can break the heart of the dark lord and come back as if nothing happened?

"Well I'm terribly sorry Mr. Potter, but you will have to hold your conversation for another time."

"Why?"

"The dark lord, Severus and I will be discussing plans for our next raid. You are currently sitting in my seat."

Severus seemed to stare at Lucius as if to say "what raid," but the glare he quickly received adviced him otherwise. Lucius's stare told Harry in no uncertain terms that the man expected him to move his behind two chairs over, so Harry did, not understanding why the man was being so cold to him.

"Thank you."

The icy tone caused even Severus to do a double take. He sat in the seat that Lucius left open for him. If only Lucius knew that it was Severus who caused their lord such trouble...Severus would be sitting at the end of the table rather than towards the front. Fifteen minutes later, everyone entered and took their assigned seats. Tom sat next to Lucius and didn't say a single word to Harry. To be honest, he didn't even look in the Gryffindor's direction.

In order to prevent any kind of conversation starters between the two, Lucius purposely started a conversation the next potential raid. Meanwhile, Severus turned to focus on the boy-who-lived.

"How did the conversation go?"

"I'm glad you warned me, Professor. I...I just can't believe he never told me."

"Well, he had this silly notion that you would reject him horribly and want nothing to do with him. I told him you couldn't possibly be so unreasonable."

"Oh...well...um...I kind of did reject him. I told him the truth about how I feel."

"And how exactly do you feel?"

"Well, I told him in plain words that I am in no way interested. I flat out re..."

When Professor Snape started looking at him like he lost his mind, Harry wondered if maybe he shouldn't have opened his mouth. Sure he was a little mean about it, but it's not like they expected him to be accepting. They couldn't have. How can they expect him to put aside years of hatred and animosity so easily? Besides, how can they expect him to forget all the pasty white skin, and lack of a nose? They can't They shoudn't. Tom's probably not surprised. Even if Tom isn't upset, Professor Snape certainly seemed to be, if the darkening expression was anything to go by. He seemed about ready to shout a few choice words at the boy, but he suddenly remembered where they were and who was most likely listening to their conversation. Fortunately, Lucius and Tom were too distracted by their own conversation to hear the whispers.

"I don't understand why you're so upset. You can't have expected me to say yes."

"No, Potter! No one expected you to say yes! At the same time, we didn't expect you to flat out refuse! What did you say to him?"

"I told him I don't find him appealing, I don't know him that well, and he's far too old for me."

"What!?"

"Well what did you expect!? I told him the truth! Should I have lied!?"

"Lied!? Lied!? You idiotic child, you know nothing! This is not about you! You have no idea what you've just done! Dear Merlin, Lucius probably knows. That's why he was so standoffish. If he knows he's bound to find out that it's me."

"Well what else did you expect when you told me!?"

"That it would make things better. Now I'm thinking that the dark lord knows you better than I do. Maybe we should've waited. Then we would've found the potion...you would know him more...Perhaps we shouldn't have even told you..."

"Do you hear yourself!? How dare you plan out what I need to know!?"

"And how dare you think you can just break someone's heart the way you just did to the dark lord! How dare you be so inconsiderate? How idare/i you assume you have the right to just because of your foolish vanities? How dare you even breathe without feeling guilt!"

The angry whispers were heard by Lucius as an aside. While speaking with the dark lord, he listened to the not so covert conversation the other two were having. To be honest, he's not surprised that it was Severus who told the boy. He's disappointed, but he's not surprised. The man always liked to think that the boy was too good for his own safety. Now he discovers that the boy is far from the do gooder they both expected. They expected him to at least give their lord a chance. They would've been fools to expect complete acceptance, however...

Lucius decided not to tell the dark lord. He felt it would serve as too much of a disappointment for the dark lord. To think that one of his trusted advisors betrayed his trust. Lucius would give Severus quite the earful later on. The man is not going to get off easy.

Harry meanwhile could not understand Professor Snape's anger. It's not like the dark lord knows him either. Why would he get his heart broken? They haven't had the time to fall in love.

-

"Come, Severus. I think it's time we journey to our lord's ancient library for advice."

Lucius could not be cold to Severus. The man was a fool. He made a decision and hoped for the best, hoping it wouldn't end up a mistake. Now, Lucius just hopes he's learned his lesson. Lucius quickly divided up their searches between transformations and curse reversals. To be honest, this is the first time they've ever seen this library. The grandness of it and the age of the texts told them they probably should've come here first. If the modern spell casters and potions masters don't know something, the ancients most likely do.

The death eaters cast the spell for general library scans and got down to reading. Lucius was determined that by the end of the night, the answers will be in the palm of his hand. Severus looked through potions journal after potions journal. There were potions of dark curse reversals, but they weren't for extensive use. They were mostly for small dark curses that coud easily be reversed. Where are the potions of Merlin's age?

"Where is the great and vast knowledge of the ancients?"

Lucius stood up and cast another scan under the scope of ancient spells and potions. Most likely, the library was tainted. When Lucius searched under Merlin, only one book came hurtling towards him, and it was gigantic. The gold leafing spoke of greatness. Only the old family ancients were allowed to use gold leafing for their texts.

He lugged the book back to his desk and started flipping through the pages. Ancient texts weren't created for quick knowledge. There was no index or table of contents.

"No...No...Well that's certainly interesting...no...no...Maybe...No..."

Three-hundred pages in, he started losing hope that this book would be of any use to him. It wasn't until the three-hundred and fifteenth page that he found something promising.

_**Magician's Request**_

The Magician's Request is a tale from before the time of Merlin. Yore told of a Magical expert that existed for the sole use of the Magicians. His name was Ryudole. In his childhood, he studied many aspects of magic, and in his teenage years, he took on quests for free, stating that he was brought by the Gods to help those who have been blessed by magic. Since his death, rumors have abounded that he can appear before wizards as a helpful spirit who grantes wishes. Like a genie, he grants three wishes, but unlike a genie, he has no restrictions.

Usually, a genie cannot grant wishes where black magic is involved, but Mage Ryudole can. To summon him, a wizard must be in great desire to see him. A wizard must feel as if he has no other choice than to perform the summons. Many have attempted the summons, but most have failed. The story was eventually claimed to be a legend. The summons doesn't require any specific ritual. You simply call out his name and if you desire it enough, he appears./i

-  
----------------------------


	5. Chapter 5 A Little Ray of Sunshine

**Title:** Shattered Glass and Broken Hearts

**Author:** charredsunshine

**Warning:** M/M, angst, hurt/comfort

**Summary:** The Wizarding World has finally performed their last betrayal. Labelled a traitor, the-boy-who-lived is thrown into Azkaban without a trial. Can the dark lord fix what's lost, or will his efforts be entirely too late?

**Chapter 5:** A Little Ray of Sunshine

Knock knock

"Hmm?"

Knock knock

"Who the...?"

Knock knock knock knock knock knock kno...

"ALRIGHT! Hold your silly horses for a second."

Thomas Marvolo Riddle (a.k.a The Dark Lord) woke up to the sound of God-awful knocking at the unholy hour of 5 am. All he could think was that whoever this person was, they'd better have a damn good reason. He quickly donned his robes, making sure that he didn't look anything less than pristine. Meanwhile, the knocking kept on going and going and going, increasing in energy and fervor. The Dark Lord swore to himself that whoever it was, their fists were going to be lopped off. When Tom was sure that he wasn't looking uglier than usual, he yanked open the door, and stared with angry red eyes at the figure that stood in his doorway.

"Lucius. I should've known it was you. Only _you_ would be up at such a ridiculous hour."

"It's morning my lord."

"No, Lucius. It's not morning. It's still so early, not even the bloody _sun_ is awake! What the hell do you want?"

Lucius was not bothered by the grumpiness. He's used to it by now. After all, the dark lord cannot be expected to be a morning person. That's why he's called the "Dark" lord. Not the "Light" lord, thank goodness.

"I'm sure, you will forgive me this small transgression, my lord."

"That depends."

"I've found it."

"Found what? Your senses?"

Lucius frowned, for he did not find that amusing. Honestly, when the man hears the news, he'll be apologizing for all this crass behaviour, Lucius just knows it. He'll feel terribly guilty for the rudeness, and Lucius will be left with the duty of forgiving him.

"Your amusement always manages to fail in the mornings, my lord. Please ignore the hour for this favorable news."

Tom grumbled unhappily, but stepped aside to let Lucius in. They might as well both be comfortable. Tom called for a house-elf who must've practically just woken up, because the poor elf stumbled in looking lost. Tom looked pointedly at Lucius before ordering them both two large cups of coffee. After the first sip, Voldemort grew more awake.

"Alright. What's the fire?"

"As I said, I found it. The solution."

"The solution to what?"

"Your problem! The problem of your attributes! I believe it's to my understanding that you don't want to look like this a single day longer?"

Lucius looked at his lord, and as if the sun suddenly rose, enlightenment reached the face of Lord Riddle. The solution! Like flashlights, the man's eyes brightened, and a slow smile appeared on his face. He had hoped for this moment, but he never thought it would come. He had hoped with the feeling that his hopes were futile. How long has he avoided looking in the mirror? How long has he feared his own reflection? To have the shame of his appearance suddenly melt away, to start anew...The concept was simply amazing.

"How?"

"In the ancient library. I know it's a legend, but there are some documented cases of truth. I have read them."

"Wait a minute. What are you talking about?"

"Magician Ryudole. His spirit lives on, granting wishes like a genie with no bars. Summon him, and he will grant you any three wishes you desire."

"Any three wishes at all?"

"Any."

Tom remembered when they'd eliminated the use of genies based on the dark arts restrictions. Genies were supposedly creatures of the light, and therefore, couldn't be bothered to associate themselves with "impure magic." Magic was magic to dark wizards. Only light wizards bother to make it more than it is. Voldemort sat down on his bed and listened to Lucius recant the tale and outline his plans. It definitely sounded promising. Lucius and Tom were both sure the desire was there. The Dark Lord found it too good to be true, honestly. He asked Lucius a million times if he was sure, and Lucius confirmed each and everyone one of those times that he was.

As expected, the dark lord apologized for his hastiness to asume that Lucius was there to simply waste his time or chat him up, and Lucius forgave the man everything. It was like Christmas had come early, and, not that Tom believed in Santa or anything like that, Santa Claus had offered him a 5 month early gift. The cure. The solution. The miracle!

"Lucius! This is wonderful!"

"I know. When would you like to summon him?"

"Soon....um...Quickly! No, Immediately! I want him summoned immediately, Lucius. I simply cannot wait!"

The giddiness in THE Darkest Wizard of all time was of obvious amusement to Lucius. Isn't the Dark Lord supposed to be serious and sinister. It's like flipping a coin. One side is heads and the other is tails. Many extremes. There is no middle ground. Sadness is felt extremely. Love is felt extremely. Anger is felt extremely. Happiness is felt extremely. Hate is felt extremely. For someone who's supposed to be cruel, The Dark Lord is surprisingly passionate.

"Then I shall help you summon him immediately. It's currently to my understanding that..."

Lucius continued to outline the process of the summoning, according to the text. His intention was never to force Harry into loving Tom. His intention was simply to make sure Harry regretted not giving the dark lord a chance.

_"The dark lord's happiness is my own. I will do all I can to banish this depression. All cannot be lost."_

-----------------------------------

Meanwhile, Harry sat thinking in the guest room. The large, soft bed offered comfort, and the soft, blue of the walls offered tranquility. He hasn't slept or done anything since Severus berated Harry's supposed misjudgement. Should he have given the dark lord a chance? The man initially tried to hide the information from Harry, but given Harry's reaction...

Maybe Tom was right to want to wait.

Harry briefly considered that he'd never been so cold in his life before that moment. It must've hurt Tom to have his expectations crushed with the utterance of a single sentence. No matter how Harry tried to justify his reasoning, his mind gave him the same response.

_"I was wrong to be so callous. I was cruel. I should apologize."_

But how does one apologize for a broken heart? How does one repair a crushed set of expectations. The dark lord probably expected love and companionship. He expected a good lover, husband, and friend. Harry was almost certain The Dark Lord expected an heir from him. Can Harry give the man all of those things?

Can Harry give the man an heir?

Harry rationalized that the age gap wasn't so bad, and they could probably get to know eachother. Harry's main problem was his vanity. Harry just couldn't get past the looks of the other man, and he realized that it was terrible of him to think so. Where is his fabled acceptance? Does it only extend to friends, or is he simply vain in the physical aspects of society. Is he no better than a pureblood supremist? What if The Dark Lord had rejected Harry because Harry was a half-blood? Sure it would be hypocritical of the man, but still. It's the principle of the matter. It's just that...Harry had always imagined himself marrying an attractive man who practically blew his mind.

"Maybe I can try ignoring his looks, and get to know him. But what would he want with someone so young? What would I want with someone so much older than me?"

Harry rationalized that he would have to start off simple and offer an apology. From there, he would see where things would go.

"Who knows? Maybe by tomorrow, Tom will be fourty years younger and more attractive. People can dream, right?"

-------------------------

Tom and Lucius puttered around the summoning chambers. The rosemary was there alongside the scented candles. The reason for these two ingredients was unknown, but they had in the beginning sworn to follow the directions to a T, so they didn't argue.

"Do you have the incantation?"

"No, I thought you had it."

"My lord..."

Lucius frowned at the deep chuckle his lord gave before showing him the paper the summons was written on.

"I'm sorry, Lucius. I'm just so excited right now. I won't have to fear my own reflection anymore."

"I dare say. You can now stop avoiding puddles, and actually swim in that wonderful lake you've always wanted to swim in."

Tom gave Lucius a withering glare before returning to the summoning. He made sure everything was properly in place before calming himself. It would not due for the summons to feed off of his nervousness.

"Ready, Lucius?"

"As much as you."

_"Magician Ryudole, Compatriots of wizards, friend of our friends, we summon you to us this fateful night. Our problem is great, and our situation even greater. May we appear to you as souls in need of your guidance and greatness. Compatriot of wizards, friend of our friends, we beg of you to grant us some wishes."_

Lucius and Tom stood there waiting, as if they anticipated the occurrance of an earthquake, but for a long time, nothing happened. They waited and waited and waited till they waited to wait.

"Did it not work?"

Lucius gave a simple shrug and gestured for them to be quiet. Maybe he's testing them. Suddenly, the scented candles flickered out, and both men heard a voice in the room.

"I hear your requests, Lucius Malfoy and Thomas Riddle, and see your hearts greatest desires. I grant you each your three wishes, and leave you in peace."

That was it. Lucius fumbled around the room and turned on the light. He looked at the dark lord, but nothing seemed to be different. The dark lord stared with disappointment at his own pasty skin, and felt for his nonexistent nose. All was the same. Nothing was different. Magician Ryudole dispite his words, had not granted Tom's truest desire. Perhaps instead, he'd killed Dumbledore.

"Nothing."

"I'm sorry my lord. I feel terrible to have fluffed up your hopes for them only to crash down..."

"No, Lucius. It's fine. erhaps he has granted a different wish of mine. Perhaps...Perhaps Potter will wake up and not care about how ugly I am. Perhaps he will..."

Lucius sighed in disappointment and gestured that they should both go to sleep. While Tom and Lucius slept in their beds, however, their wishes were being granted. Tom's desire to have Harry truly give him a chance, and Lucius's desire for freedom.

-

"LUCIUS!!! LUCIUS ABRAXAS MALFOY! WAKE THE HELL UP!"

Tom's screams of alarm could be heard throughout the castle, and Lucius ran into his Lord's room along with half the death eaters.

"Oh my..."

Before Lucius stood a sight he thought he'd never see.

"How...How could this have happened?"

Black hair, humanely pale skin, and a delicately aristocratic nose that suited the status of the man adorning it. How coud this have happened? How could this have happened? His lord was...20 again.

-

SURPRISE! The dark lord is once again in his prime. One thing I want to establish clearly is that Voldemort's main reason for returning to his rightful appearance isn't so that Harry will fall in love with him. Tom's hated his appearance for a long time, and it's more for his own vanity than anything else. The fact that Harry now has two less reasons to reject him is merely a bonus.

WELL THEN! Now that that's been said, let's move on!

I would like to thank all my 2806 viewers, each and every one of my 23 reviewers, the 13 who favorited me, the 2 people who added me to their communities, and the 52 people intrigued enough by my story to add me to their alerts list. You are the suns that brighten up my evening. Thank you so much. I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. Until next time!


	6. Chapter 6 Mighty Lies

Title: Shattered Glass and Broken Hearts

Author: charredsunshine

Warning: M/M, angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: The Wizarding World has finally performed their last betrayal. Labelled a traitor, the-boy-who-lived is thrown into Azkaban without a trial. Can the dark lord fix what's lost, or will his efforts be entirely too late?

Chapter 6:What a Lie, What a Mighty Big Lie

This was the sight that met Lucius when he was initially recruited. This was the charming man who had captivated him. Ideas that Lucius had initially considered whimsical -- the product of childish fantasies -- was made real by this man's words. Newcomers to the order were intially awed and confused by this new appearance. Some even tried to hex him on sight, however, a few well placed spells absolved them of the idea the man before them was anyone other than the dark lord.

Tom entered the dining hall, smiling at the shocked expressions that appeared on peoples faces as he walked by. There was something decidedly refreshing about them. Perhaps because it confirmed the change. The new Dark Lord. Somehow, Tom thought that could actually catch. Of course, word of his transformation couldn't go beyond the walls, but it was the principle of it that mattered. Dumbledore would probably lose his mind.

He sat at his seat, and waited for everyone else to arrive

"I can just tell this is going to be a wonderful day."

-

"I can just tell this is going to be a terrible day."

Albus Dumbledore was seated in his office, nursing a mind-numbing headache. Just by the sheer fact that he woke up with said headache, told him that today was in fact going to be a terrible day. Let's see how this terrible day started.

First of all, it started with an announcement by Poppy that the students were getting irritable about the disappearance of their oh-so-loveable boy-who-lived. Why everyone favored the boy was an anomally to Albus, but the favoritism nonetheless was inspiring curious questions Dumbledore could not afford to answer. McGonagall came in complaining that the students were being more unruly than usual, and Snape was nowhere to be found. It's times like this Dumbledore begins to worry if he can add an "ex" in front of Death Eater when referring to Severus. The man has gone missing on more than one occassion. Dumbledore threatened to himself that if the man went missing one more time, he 'll make sure the man never forgets where his loyalties should lie.

The summer had started so nicely. Potter was arrested and out of his way. It was a risk, hoping the boy would grow more submissive over time, but it was a risk he was willing to take. He's sure that after a couple months in prison, Potter will forget all his questions about the dark-side's platform and trust implicitly in Dumbledore. What happened to the good old days when a little light would twinkle in his eye upon seeing Dumbledore? It's not like that dog of a godfather could've done anything for the boy.

The day continued on to include fights between Sytherins and Gryffindors, something that would usually fill him with pride, but then merely gave him a headache. By breakfast time, Dumbledore was fully prepared to shot someone in the head. All he waited was the nearest opportunity. When the owls came in with the daily prophet, Dumbledore sighed, hoping that it would be some good news. Perhaps Voldemort has gone on another raid? Or perhaps a group of light-side vigilantes have done him a favor, and killed a few key Death Eaters? Whatever it is, he can only hope it'll bring up this despicable mood he's been forced into.

"A-A-Albus?"

"What is it this time, Minerva?" Can't he have even breakfast in peace?

"I think you should read the headlines."

With a rather indifferent expression, Dumbledore accepted Minerva's edition, and scoped the paper for what was so distressing. It didn't take too long. There at the very top of the page, was the largest font the daily prophet had ever used.

DEATH EATERS SPRING OUT POLITICAL PRISONER: THE-BOY-WHO-LIVED

Has the boy-who-lived become the-boy-who-lived-to-turn-dark? Two months ago, the saviour of the wizarding world wrote a letter to Albus Dumbledore expressing a desire to "hear the dark lord out."

Needless to say, the letter was distressing, and was responded to with six month imprisonment. Like serving out a detention, Harry Potter was sentenced to Azkaban under the pretense of reform. The wizarding world at large was not made aware of this occurrance, and this reporter wonders if Albus Dumbledore feels that it is not our right to know that our only hope threatens to slip through our fingers. This reporter wonders what Albus Dumbledore was doing when he squirreled the-boy-who-lived-to-turn-dark into prison, and kept us in the dark? Is this a common occurrance? What else don't we know?

Two days ago, the-boy-who-lived was sprung out four months ahead of time by the A small band of Death Eaters and the Dark Lord himself. Prison guards who managed to escape the fiasco expressed surprise that they were not notified by the wards of the breech earlier. They guessed that a whole five minutes had passed before they noticed the hole, and the-boy-who-lived was already comfy in the arms of the dark lord. The guards can't remember what happened after that. They were valiantly fighting for their lives when they suddenly blacked out.

This reporter wonders what will happen now that the-boy-who-lived has joined the dark lord's side. Is all hope lost? We can only wait and see.

Reporter: Rita Skeeter.

"Oh dear God."

Albus looked up from the article, his face pale and drawn. Students who had already finished stared up at him. Some faces showed shock, some faces showed betrayal, yet everyone managed to share a look of fear. Now that the wizarding world was effectively sent into a panic by Rita Skeeter, things would be looked into more deeply. The wizarding world would be unwilling to allow things to go so easily.

"The things I go through."

The Headmaster sneered in disgust with the situation before him, and simply walked out. He decided that before he would be able to calm the students, he would need his best bottle of firewhiskey. That is what he was nursing at the beginning of this scene.

Of course he knows what is now expected of him. He's expected to go down to Azkaban and research into the situation. He's supposed to bluster into the room and demand to know why there was such a serious flaw in their wards, but to be honest, he's too tired. He used to have the energy to go through this his whole world domination plan, but he kind of just wants to retire now. It's so strange too. Just yesterday, he was full of energy and vigour. He got so much accomplished. Now, he's just...lethargic. Somehow, there's a disturbance in the universe, and he's unaware of what it is.

If there's anything in the world the Headmaster hates more than Voldemort, it's being left in the dark. And broccoli. If he does decide to overtake the world, broccoli-farmers will be the first to go.

-

Lucius once again sat beside the dark lord with Severus directly after. The seat beside Lucius was left empty for a certain boy-who-lived who thought himself important enough to be late.

"If you wish, my lord, I could go and fetch him."

"Fetch him? Don't bother yourself, Severus. If he doesn't show up, what he eats for breakfast will be his own worry. I am not going to inconvenience you and myself just because he wants to sleep in a bit. He has to adjust eventually."

Lucius and Severus both knew that the rejection made the dark lord especially bitter. The dark lord understood the rejection. It still hurt, nonetheless. Neither of them saw the disheveled Gryffindor walking around the corner of the dinning hall, as if he hadn't been running to make sure he wasn't late. To his dismay, everyone had, of course, already started. Now, his entrance would be awkward and noticeable.

Harry tried to look inconspicuous, much to Professor Snape's amusement. Harry just worked at ignoring the raised eyebrow. He looked curiously at the dark lord's filled seat to see not the dark lord, but someone else entirely.

"Professor."

"Can't a wizard eat his breakfast in peace? What is it you want?"

"Sorry, but who's the new guy."

"New guy? What 'new guy?'"

"The one sitting on the otherside of Malfoy."

Severus, of course, stared in bafflement at the boy-who-lived. He hadn't the faintest idea what the boy was babbling on about. Had the dark lord stood up? When he looked over and saw the dark lord in his reformed glory, Professor Snape realized that Potter must not be able to recognize the dark lord.

"I thought our lord told you, Potter. That is his son."

"Son!?"

Severus of course, smirked. Hell would freeze over before the dark lord bed a woman.

"Oh yes, Potter. Before he became aware of the true prophecy, our lord sired a son. That, is him."

"How...How old is..."

"Oh! He should be about twenty, perhaps. His name is Damien. He was named after his mother's father. The dark lord is on business, so the Dark Prince will be sitting in until his father returns."

Severus smirked in satisfaction when he noticed Harry's left eye twitch uncontrollably. He turned his head and whispered his little plan in Lucius's ear, sharing an amused smirk with the man. Of course, Lucius informed the dark lord. After all, it wouldn't due for the Dark Prince to not answer to his name.

"Severus did what?"

For the life of him, the dark lord couldn't understand the goal of such a terrible trick. Is this their twisted idea of fun?

"Are you two bored, Lucius? I know that after the rescue mission..."

Lucius calmly explained the plan. Soon the confusion cleared off of Tom's face, and was replaced with skepticism. He highly doubted this plan would actually manage to work. Lucius and Severus proposed that Harry might not willing fall for Lord Voldemort, yet he may willingly fall for Damien.

"So you're trying to tell me I should take on an alternate ego so that Harry will give me a chance?"

"Precisely. The boy is stubborn, and he far from recognizes you. As far as he knows, you're a complete stranger. There are no prejudices for him to judge you on other than the fact that the dark lord is your father, and such a prejudice is easy to get over."

"So..."

"Yes, my lord. I do think this could work."

While Lucius and Severus tried hard to encourage him, Tom winced in the back of his mind. Lying has never been a problem for him. In fact, he's often done it with pleasure. He's just worried about the consequences when Harry finds out.

"And how will you lessen the blow?"

"The blow?"

"Of course! You don't expect this lie to continue forever, do you? How are you going to get him to forgive me when he finds out that the man he fell for is a complete lie."

"Oh...Well..."

To be honest, Severus hadn't thought of that. His lord was right. Harry would be none-too-pleased with the sudden news.

"I don't like this, Severus. I don't like it one bit that you've taken it upon yourself to fabricate an alter ego for myself."

"My apologies, my lord. I was only thinking of you," "While trying to correct the terrible mistake I made in telling Potter."

Lucius heard the unspoken words, and joined in the begging. If they could actually pull this off, their lord could find happiness, and the war would be theirs.

"If this ends up making the entire situation worse, I will hunt you both down and mount your heads on my office walls, is that understood?"

The narrowed eyes and hissing tone told them both that any mistakes would not be taken lightly.

"Yes, our lord."

The dark lord dismissed their presence with a wave of his hand, and breakfast was over. Meanwhile, Harry sat at the table with a slightly sour expression on his face.

When exactly was Tom going to tell him he had a son? 


	7. Chapter 7 Where a Dream is a Dream

**Title:** Shattered Glass and Broken Hearts

**Author**: charredsunshine

**Warning**: M/M, angst, hurt/comfort

**Summary**: The Wizarding World has finally performed their last betrayal. Labelled a traitor, the-boy-who-lived is thrown into Azkaban without a trial. Can the dark lord fix what's lost, or will his efforts be entirely too late?

**_Chapter 7:_** Where a Dream is a Dream and Laziness an Affliction

A verdant gaze stared with pure, unadulterated hatred at the back of Damin's head. The sheer concept that the dark lord had a son he'd conveniently forgotten to mention irked the Gryffindor. He just couldn't believe it. He just couldn't believe that the dark lord practically proposed to him without mentioning the tiny little fact that he would be a stepfather. Since the dark lord wasn't there to feel the brunt of his anger, all of Harry's hatred was focused on Damien and Damien alone. Damien and his perfect long hair. Damien and his pointed nose. Damien and his pale skin and blue eyes and...and...perfectness. It was irritating, because when Harry really looked, the dark lord's son looked eerily similar to the teenage Tom Riddle. Just...well...older. The hair was longer, and the skin was just a little pinker, maybe. It wasn't nearly as pale. Perhaps that little factor came from the "mother." Where was the mother anyway?

Harry snorted in disgust and turned his head away. He steadfastly refused to waste a single glance more on the unwanted _thing_ that had decided to take the dark lord's place.

"I'm going to bed."f

Harry didn't wait for a response. He simply stood up and stormed his way out of the room. He didn't expect anyone to come after him, so he just locked the door behind him. Why would anyone care anyway? After all. Everyone just decided to spring "Damien" on him. Is he the only one who was kept out of he loop? With a pouty huff, Harry stomped his way into the bathroom, and scrubbed his skin with an energy that might be considered just a tad bit unnecessary. After dressing, he threw himself into bed, and forced his eyes closed. The last thing he wanted to do was waste more time thinking about "him."

-

"Lucius and Severus. May I speak with you for a moment?"

The irritated tone with which the dark lord spoke told the two favored Death Eaters they weren't receiving any rewards anytime soon. Like little boys being dragged by their ears, the two dragged themselves behind the dark lord into his private office. The minute they entered far enough, the door slammed behind them magically. The next thing they heard, the lock was turning itself, and the Dark Lord's face was tremulous in it's anger.

"Tell me, Lucius, Severus...Do you think your little plan is working?"

"Um...well..."

"No answer? Well let me help you out a bit. IT ISN'T!"

The two men flinched at the roar, and bent their heads in servitude.

"The only glances I have seen from my intended are those of loathing and hatred. If I may be so bold, oh cunning ones, I would say that his reaction is the opposite of what you expected. He rather seems to HATE Damien. Tell me, oh sneaky ones. Tell me how that could possibly happen!?"

Obviously, the two were silent. They hadn't noticed the glances, but they would not dare call the Dark Lord on it. They might as well shoot themselves. Severus, fumbled for a response, because in the end the idea was his, and Lucius had no idea what to say. In fact, the blonde-headed man was looking at HIM rather stupidly.

"He might be...um...jealous?"

"Jealous."

"Yes, my lord. It is...admittedly unexpected, however...It is rational. He thought you were his to manipulate, and now he discovers he must share your attention. Also, the concept that he is to be a step-father must also be frightening."

"Then tell me, Dr. Severus. Will this not make his fury worse when he finds out that all this agonizing was for nothing?"

"It will admittedly upset him, however...I do not think that..."

Lucius raised a slender eyebrow. He had never seen the raven-haired man stutter so terribly in his life. Apparently, everything is going wrong, and he has no idea how to fix it.

"Severus, hush. You're not making any sense. If I may, my lord, I think that my partner is trying to say is that Harry's jealousy will in the end benefit you. He will discover his love for you through the rationalization of the reason for his jealousy, and then all will be well."

"You feel it is that simple?"

"Yes."

The synchronized response left Tom blinking stupidly for a second, before he shook his head vigorously. Hasn't he tried keeping secrets, only for it to backfire on him? Why would he jump from secrets to lies? He was a fool to agree with this in the first place. He was a fool to agree with ANYTHING Lucius and Severus have to say on the topic of his relationship. Lucius is bitter on his behalf, and Severus is...well...He doesn't know what Severus is. Severus is just being troublesome. This is not the way to win the boy's heart.

"You are confusing me. The both of you are leading me down a very dangerous path and I want nothing to do with it."

"But my lord...!"

"Couldn't you...!"

"HUSH!"

The roaring interruption shut the two men up quickly. They knew they were not going to be heard.

"Tomorrow, I am going to end this farce and tell Harry the truth. Hopefully, I can still salvage what little I can."

Before they could utter another word, the dark lord dismissed them. His hand moved in a harsh waving gesture, and the two were gone before he could even blink. The Dark Lord sat in his chair, and massaged his forehead of the headache. He snapped his fingers and a house elf appeared, only disappearing again when the Dark Lord made an order for a mug of his strongest black coffee. As he sipped at the bitter concoction, Tom considered how the idea seemed appealing to him in the beginning. He'd considered that if the boy refused to fall for him, he could fall for someone else, but when he took the time to think on it, and the plan started to go in an unexpected direction, he realized he didn't want their relationship to be built on lies. He hated the idea that Harry would be thinking of someone else when with him. After all, who's name would he call out when making love? Would he call out "Tom," or would he call out "Damien?" Tom thought wryly that he would just wilt right there and then. There was no greater turn-off for him.

Damien had to go.

"And I have GOT to stop going to those two for advice on topics outside of war."

There's a reason they're war strategists for the Dark Lord and not Love Doctors. They should stick to their job descriptions.

-

Harry slowly woke up the next morning, realizing something strange. He had a very interesting dream. It was weird, but interesting nonetheless. Damien had been standing before him. Neither of them were moving. They were just staring at eachother as if frozen statues. Harry kept wondering what the bloody hell they were staring at eachother for, but no one deigned to give him a response, and his dream version never deigned to move a muscle, so Harry was stuck. Suddenly, the interesting part came. Damien suddenly smiled softly, and his face...his face had started cracking. It was like his face was a clay mask, and someone took a hammer to it, and it just cracked and cracked and fell apart till it wasn't Damien looking at him anymore. It was the Dark Lord. At first, Harry was upset, because he thought that even in his dreams, he couldn't escape the reality that Damien was the Dark Lord's son, but when the Dark Lord's face also started cracking and showed Tom Riddle, a different conclusion came to the forefront of Harry's mind and instead of anger Harry was replaced with curiousity. Law of equality. If A = B, and B = C, then shouldn't A = C. If Harry were to follow that principle, then......

Damien Riddle is really just...Tom Riddle in disguise, because Damien is really just...

Harry shook his head in confusion. It was really just too early to be thinking so hard, but he wanted to get down to the bottom of the problem. So the Dark Lord is Tom Riddle. He already knew that. But then the Dark Lord is also...Damien? Or is Damien the Dark Lord? It's like the chicken or the egg question. Which came first. Well...considering Damien is older and Tom Riddle was younger fit would make sense to say Tom Riddle came first, but maybe Tom Riddle was just an alias. Maybe his real name is Damien. But then why would he do that!? Then again, it would explain why everyone knows but him. But _why_? Why would he create an alias at such a young age? Even Dumbledore called him Tom Riddle. Is Dumbledore in on the lie too? After all, it wouldn't be very surprising.

No. Something's missing here. Something's just...horribly horribly wrong.

Harry sighed, thought about it, twisted his face into a confused expression and shook his head firmly. It really was too early to be thinking this. It was like what? Five am in the morning. Much too early. He'll consider the conundrum when his own insides aren't being cannibalistic. Willfully, Harry forced himself to go back to sleep so the thought wouldn't creep back into his head. Hopefully, he won't be having anymore weird dreams.

-

It was early morning when Fudge practically dragged Dumbledore out of bed and into Azkaban prison. He kept rambling on and on about how he's surprised the Headmaster's taken this long to contact him and set up a meeting, and how he doesn't approve of the Headmaster's current lackadaisal attitude.

"Well you woke me up at the crack of dawn, Fudge. Really. What did you expect? I'm not young anymore."

If anything, Fudge did not expect that to be the response. Wasn't this the man who told him he could never be too old? How many times has Fudge practically ordered him to resign? He's always expressed his ideas that the man was too...um..."old" to work as hard as he does. Fudge, of course, wanted to say ancient, but he learned a long time ago to watch what he said or thought when he was around Dumbledore. The man had a nasty habit of performing legillimancy on unsuspecting people, and Fudge had had yet to learn Occulemency. Their friendship and his lack of knowledge in Occulemency, gave Dumbledore the most advantage. He now knows everything up to date he needs to know about the going ons of the Ministry. They really should make it a requirement their Minister's know how to protect government secrets.

"That's not..."

"Don't lie when you know I just read your mind, Fudge. You've called me ancient for centuries."

Fudge, admittedly, didn't even have the decency to look guilty. He just turned his head away and continued walking. The boat was waiting for them when they arrived. Dumbledore yawned tiredly, not looking in the least bit interested in the proceedings. Usually, he would pretend to be attentive, but he couldn't this time. Lately, he's just felt like...well...giving up, but no one would be happy if he did that. Someone would be quick to take his place, but a part of him keeps urging Dumbledore to simply not care. He's too old. He should let someone younger take the reigns. Yesterday, Severus came in to report to him. It was rather interesting also. The Potions Master had been so preoccupied with justifying himself. Dumbledore couldn't read his mind or his face, but he can tell that the man hasn't been entirely loyal to him, and to be honest, the Headmaster couldn't care less.

"For Merlin's sake, Albus! Would you stop yawning!?"

Fudge's response was a poor attempt at concealing a newly awakening one. When they entered the prison wards, Albus suddenly sensed something strange.

"Fudge..."

"Yes?"

"Have they changed the wards since I changed them?"

"Oh yes. I forgot to mention. The Ministry felt it was tedious to have one person change the wards so frequently. So they've left it to the sole responsibility of some girl."

"Some _girl_?"

"Yes. Quite young. They've tied her to the wards, and she lives here. It's more convient, because no one has to worry about distance. She's always here."

"Tell me, Fudge. Is she a Harry Potter fan?"

"Doubt it. She's from the East Coast of Africa."

The Headmaster soon found out that the girl was a captured runaway princess. The Chief of her tribe wasn't aware she was in Britain, and the British Magical Ministry saw no need in returning her since she obviously ran away, so they used in the only way they saw fit. She's been there three years so far. She's fed three meals a day, but she doesn't socialize, she doesn't leave the room. She's like a caged bird.

"They say African magic is quite different. It's much purer. They don't use wands."

"When we captured her, she didn't have one on her. We initially considered her a muggle who had just ventured too far. It wasn't till she demanded we free her we realized she was a witch. Nearly tore the room apart."

"Don't you think it's possible she allowed the Dark Lord to enter the wards?"

"It's possible, but why would she? She doesn't know the dark lord, and she has no room to meet him and make plans. It would have to be completely spontaneous."

"I know, but..."

Things still didn't settle easy with him. Especially the tale about the trees. In the center belt of Africa, magic is strongest. There, witches and wizards are allowed to connect clearly with nature. What if she channeled that nature ability into the trees, and used them as her minions or something of the sort? Dumbledore furtively looked at the weeping willows and dead elms on the premises and sighed. Maybe in the end he was just being silly. After all, like Fudge said the girl had no room for plan making.

"Alright. Let's keep thinking, then."

Dumbledore let out another large yawn while the girl watched them approaching from the barred window.

-

When Harry woke up again, it was half an hour to breakfast. As he took a shower, and thought over the dream he'd had before, he noticed just a few inconsistencies with Damien. He oesn't have a single feature that isn't Tom Riddle's. The hair, the eyes, the nose, the skin, the VOICE...It was all Tom. Just...older. Harry considered it a possibility that Damien was a fake, and this was all some terrible attempt at a joke, but he just couldn't imagine the dark lord willingly impersonating his own son. Then again, there is the possibility that Damien came before Tom, and he isn't willing to tell the truth. But then why would Professor Snape suddenly explain everything to him? It was all just so weird.

"I think I'll just confront Damien/Tom. That's the only way I can figure out the truth."

Just when he made that statement, a knock came at the door that conjoined his room with the Dark Lord's.

"Tom? Is that you!?"

Harry practically ran to the door and threw it open. Standing there, instead, wasn't Tom but Damien. Tom saw the apparrent disappointment on Harry's face, and stared in curiousity. Maybe the plan was actually working. That was an interesting development.

"May I help you?"

Harry scowled, because Damien looks exactly how he wishes the Dark Lord looked.

"Um...Well...I have a confession to make."

"Okay. Make it."

"I'm not really Damien. You see...Damien doesn't exist. I'm really the Dark Lord."

-  
-----------------------------------------------


	8. Chapter 8 Syrup, Anyone?

**Title:** Shattered Glass and Broken Hearts

**Author:** charredsunshine

**Warning**: M/M, angst, hurt/comfort

**Summary**: The Wizarding World has finally performed their last betrayal. Labelled a traitor, the-boy-who-lived is thrown into Azkaban without a trial. Can the dark lord fix what's lost, or will his efforts be entirely too late?

**_Chapter 8:_** Would you like some Syrup with that Aww?

Harry listened queitly to everything Tom had to say. Even when he wanted to scream out questions and accusations, he kept quiet. Even when he wanted to storm out, because it was all becoming too much, he kept quiet, because he was waiting for the moment Tom would give a legitimate excuse for why he feels he would've been better off with Dumbledore. When Tom finally quieted, and Harry had had yet to hear an excuse, Harry turned to the Dark Lord: his face entirely closed off.

"Thomas, Marvolo Riddle."

"Yes, Harry?"

"I want you to give me one good reason why I shouldn't get up this second and walk out the door. Give me one good reason why I should stay in your faction."

When Tom tried to think of a reason, he couldn't find one, and instead of answering, he bent his head in guilt.

"I joined your side, thinking that I was getting the better end of the deal. Instead, things have been worse! Not only have you kept secrets from me, you've lied to me, AND you've attempted to MANIPULATE my FEELINGS. Did you even feel guilty when I called you Damien? Did you? Did you feel like the fraud you were?"

Tom was quiet.

"HUH!?"

"Y-Yes."

"Good! Cause you are! You're nothing but a fraudulent little...fraudulent little...How DARE you! Are you truly so desperate!? Have you no pride that you have to try and fool your way into my good graces!?"

"I'm sorry." The quiet whisper didn't reach Harry's ears through the rant, however. He went on about how he couldn't believe he'd thought the dark lord would be a better choice.

"I'm sorry!"

"Sometimes I wish...Sometimes I wish you hadn't..."

"GOD DAMNIT! I'M SORRY!"

Harry turned around to give the dark lord a real piece of his mind, but he stopped in shock when he saw the wizard had his hands firmly clasped to his ears, trying to block out the sound of Harry's tirade, and yelling.

"I'M SORRY! I didn't mean to lie! I didn't mean to disappoint you! I didn't mean...I didn't mean to UPSET you so much! I just...I'm sorry!"

Harry looked at the shaking man, and sighed gently. What was he going to do with this person? Harry walked over and knelt before the dark lord, hiding his shock well at the sight of angry tears. Whether they were tears of anger towards Harry or the dark Lord himself was unknown, but Harry found the sight oddly transfixing. He'd never imagined the dark lord could actually cry. The possibility of actual human emotions had just seemed so...far off.

He reached his hands up, and parted Tom's hands away from his ears.

"Ssh. Tom...Tom, it's alright. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"You don't understand what it felt like to hear those words."

"What words, Tom."

"The ones you used to reject me! What others!?"

"What do you..."

Tom stood up to leave the room, but Harry's hand wrapped tightly around his wrist stopped him from moving. When Tom tried to free himself, Harry just held on tighter, and before the dark Lord knew it, he was being yanked towards the Gryffindor and thrown onto the bed.

"You, Thomas Riddle are going nowhere until I get some answers. Now I am isick/i and tired, understand? I am going to get to the bottom of what's wrong with you, and I am going to do it now."

When Tom looked daringly at the door, Harry moved to block him.

"That exit is light-years away, so start talking."

Right in front of the door, Harry sat himself crosslegged and stared. When he saw the dark lord crying, he realized that there was so much he didn't know about the man. Sure he's been told the truth, but...It's just the prejudice that this is the DARK LORD. Harry had too many expectations when he came in.

"You're right. I don't understand anything about you, but you can't expect me to want to learn when you keep lying and manipulating me."

"I know, but...I guess I didn't know what else to do. I felt like I had no choice.

"I am not an impossible person, Tom. I don't see how..."

"Yes you are! You are impossible! I didn't ask you to sign a marriage contract! I didn't even ask for your hand! I just told you the circumstances and then you just..."

"I don't understand why it even bothers you!"

"I was HAPPY, you brat! I was happy! The first day I found out about you, I was happy."

"How could you have been happy? You barely knew me!"

"I was happy because of the idea of you."

"What?"

"You don't get it."

"Then explain it to me! Explain it to me, because by Merlin, this is the first time I'm hearing ANY of this! Why would you be happy with the idea of me?"

"You don't...You don't know what it meant to me to find out I had a mate. You don't know what being a mate is. A mate is someone you dedicate your whole life to. Your happiness is firmly grasped within their hands, and they become your everything. At the same time, the sentiments are returned. Your mate is the person you spend your whole life with. You wake up in the morning, and they're there. When you hold your mate's hand the first time, there's that jolt of electricity. Twenty years later, there's the warmth of familiarity and companionship. I WANTED that. I WANTED that kind of a relationship with someone. Ever since I was young, I was a genius at school and a nuisance outside of it, but I was never loved. That's what you represented for me. When you rejected me the way you did, it just...It was like everything just crumbled into fine dust. I just wanted to do anything to change your mind."

"Why...Why is this the first time I'm hearing these words? I never..."

"How do you expect the dark lord to share his feelings outside of an emotional breakdown? It's not very 'in character' is it?"

When the Dark Lord turned his head, Harry smiled just a little bit.

"That, Thomas Riddle has to be the most romantic excuse I have ever heard."

"Do you forgive me?"

Here Harry sighed, wondering if he truly did forgive him. There was the terrible manipulation, but the intentions were vaguely in the right place. Also, he told the truth before Harry managed to confront the man with his dream.

"Well the way I figure it, you're a Slytherin. Manipulation is an instinct, and...you just went with what you thought would work. What's really getting you off the hook is that you told me the truth before I confronted you."

The Gryffindor smiled when Tom's head bowed in relief. The dark lord was proud that he made the right decision in telling Harry the truth. He could just imagine if he'd chosen otherwise.

"Listen. I know that I was hasty in what I said that day."

"Yes..."

"And I shouldn't have treated you the way I did."

"Yes..."

"So I guess I've made my decision."

"What decision?"

"Why don't we start off simple. Show me what you have to offer."

"Harry..."

Harry smiled at the approaching excitement in the Dark Lord's voice.

"I'm agreeing to a courtship."

-

AUTHOR NOTE:

Alright. I know this chapter is PAINFULLY short, but I thought it would be nice to put everyone out of their misery and find out if Harry forgave Tom or not. Plus, this chapter has a little more depth in Tom's character. It came out better than I thought it would. A little sappy, but cute nonetheless.

I hope everyone enjoys!


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